


Drabbles 2009

by Garnigal



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-05
Updated: 2010-03-31
Packaged: 2017-10-08 13:33:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 3,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garnigal/pseuds/Garnigal





	1. Box

"Everything is just simple shapes, children. Stack and overlap rectangles, circles, ovals and triangles and you can draw anything."

He drew three boxes atop one another, added a few circles and ovals. Somehow the shapes became a tree.

"A human being is incredibly complex and yet you can draw a human figure with just a few ovals."

As if by magic, the rough outline of a human appeared on the white paper.

"And then, you just flesh your drawing out."

Dawn watched the teacher with narrowed eyes. Creating a person from nothing… was this how the monks had created her?


	2. Stick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Truth is only for the wise - Lovers ought to stick to lies"

Despite his passion and devotion, he saw her clearly.

More clearly than her friends.

Exhaustion etched lines on her face, worry aged her beyond her years and a longing for peace (even the permanent peace of the tomb) settled on her shoulders like a shroud.

Guilt over wanting to leave and anger at being forced to stay kept her at arm's length from those who wanted her closest.

He saw all these things and more. But he'd never tell her.

He just looked at her adoringly (ignored the sorrow that clung like vampire dust) and told her she was beautiful.


	3. Can

He was a Watcher. He knew what he must do; he was to lead and point the slayer at the greatest danger to humanity and preventing great evil from overcoming the world.

He was here to provide intelligence and training. He was here to provide education and weaponry. He was here to provide direction and strategy.

He wasn't here to guide the slayer by the hand. He wasn't here to coddle her.

There was no 'you can do it'. There was no 'I believe in you'. There was no 'try, try again'.

There was no second chance for a slayer.


	4. Under

There had never been a choice.

At least, she hadn't been offered one.

She fell asleep a bubbly cheerleader, only worrying about having the right clothes and the right friends and the right boys to stay popular.

She woke up the Chosen One.

So somewhere, someone had a choice. Someone had evaluated the possible candidates and picked her out of the line up. Someone had decided that she was the one with the strength, the power, the skill and the short life-span.

It had never been her choice.

But death was.

And now there was nothing under her but air.


	5. Foot/Ball/Football

The footfalls echoed in the dark alley.

Slow and deliberate, she couldn't help thinking about the horror movie she'd watched last night after her parents went to bed.

She laughed to try and shake off her fear, and swore she'd never tell her parents about how her imagination ran away with her.

She never did.

She didn't get the chance.

The footfalls never sped up, never got closer, but suddenly, he was there in front of her.

Gorgeous smile. Bedroom eyes.

Evil heart and deadly fangs.

She didn't even have time to scream before she was going, going…

And gone.


	6. Court

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Joan of Arc, written by Leonard Cohen, performed by Jennifer Warnes

She was all he dreamed and much more.

Her strength astounded him. Her nerve amazed him. Her beauty awed him.

Her pain attracted him. Her grief appealed to him. Her yearning absorbed him.

She fascinated him in all her incarnations, so he watched from the shadows.

Watched her fight, watched her walk into the lion's den, watched her mature.

Watched her ache, watched her cry, watched her long for something more.

Long for something he could offer.

And so he courted her while she courted disaster, blind to his desire.

Until Death stepped from the shadows and took her hand.


	7. Bear/Bare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old Mother Hubbard

Old Mother Lehane wasn't really that old, but years of hard living had left indelible marks.

Old Mother Lehane didn't have a dog, but she did have a daughter that she treated little better than an animal.

Old Mother Lehane never worried about whether the cupboards were bare, but she always made sure she had plenty of cigarettes and alcohol in her own bedside drawer.

Old Mother Lehane wasn't going to kick her kid out on the street, but that was just because she needed the extra cash from welfare.

Old Mother Lehane wasn't much of a mother at all.


	8. Jewel/Jewelry

The sparkle caught her eye as she took off the gloves she'd been wearing to do the dishes. She couldn't help but smile as she held her hand up to the light.

He'd caught her by surprise when he proposed last night. She hadn't been looking forward to the football game, but she went where he went. He'd whispered sweetly in her ear while they sat in the parking lot, celebrating the team's win. She thought she'd misheard until he slipped the ring on her finger.

Her life was wonderful now, and it would be perfect once they were married.

*****

The gleam caught her eye as she unpacked the last box. She couldn't even work up a tear as she stared at it.

She'd worn the wedding band for almost twenty years, never once removing it. He'd wanted to have it inscribed for their fifteenth anniversary, but she refused to take it off for him to take to the jeweler. He bought her a locket instead, and missed dinner that night because he had to work late.

Her marriage had ended long before the divorce papers were signed, and taking off the ring was just the start of something wonderful.


	9. Lamp

Her pants were ripped. Her shirt was shredded; thankfully it was dark enough that no one could see her pink bra peeking out. Her hair was a complete rat's nest, and she'd lost a shoe.

It had been a very bad night.

It took ten minutes to find and dust the vamp. It took forty minutes to walk home barefoot and half-naked, avoiding broken glass and busy streets.

She was in a foul mood by the time she got to her entirely darkened street. Entirely dark except for a lamp in the window of 1620, calling her home.

She smiled.


	10. Lamp

He ran through the darkness, footsteps thudding on the hard ground and his breath coming in harsh pants. He refused to turn and look behind him.

He was afraid he would see evil right on his heels.

He was afraid he would see nothing but darkness.

Instead, he kept his gaze fixed on the light in the darkness, a lamp in a window that shone clear and beckoned him to safety and security.

With a crash, he bolted through the door and sighed in relief.

"Why do they fall for it every time?"

They laughed and advanced, and he screamed.


	11. Tag

Tag was his favourite game when he was a kid. Most of the rest of the kids hated being It, but he didn't mind. He was the youngest, but he was the fastest and the sneakiest, so he was never It for long. He could see Daddy grinning proudly on the porch when he tagged one of the bigger kids or let one of the littlest ones slip past.

He's still fast and sneaky. He can tiptoe up behind an HST and have them knocked out and in the net before they even know he's there.

And tag… it's It.


	12. Pat

Black and white and red all over.

That's Sunnydale through the eyes of those in the know.

The Slayer sees only evil and good and the lives she failed to save. Her Watcher sees only battle and peace and the enemies she destroyed. Her friends see only danger and safety and the blood they've left behind. Her enemies see only victims and rivals and the evil they yearn to spread.

Black and white and red. No opportunity to see the shades of grey, no easy path, no simple acceptance of the pat answers.

Just life, death and the pain between.


	13. Lock/Key

She thought she'd locked her heart away. Barred the window, bolted the door, tossed the key.

She'd locked it by choice. She knew what happened when you let biological urges distract you – giddiness, giggling and poor grades. She'd been there herself.

He wooed, she softened. He romanced, she surrendered.

He left, and she almost gave everything up.

So she closed her heart and refocused. Studied and researched and competed until she had a high-tech government lab and a military unit to do her bidding.

But as Adam came to life beneath her hands, she could feel the locks dropping away.


	14. Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quote paraphrased from CS Lewis

The flames rose around her, turning her countenance demonic. Gasps rose from the watching crowd, male and female alike horror-struck and fearful.

Cowards.

When she was chosen, she expected death at the hands of the demons she fought and feared for her good name on the tongues of the neighbours.

She didn't anticipate those gossiping neighbours would bring about her death.

Before the cries of 'witch' and the smoke overtook her, she spotted golden eyes and bright fangs grinning from the shadows. This community would soon learn that banishing the knight does nothing to alleviate the suffering of the peasant.


	15. Passion

It was like everyone else spoke a different language.

Oh, Faith understood all the words, but she'd certainly never used them to describe herself or her life. They talked about duty and responsibility, about right and wrong, about shades of grey, about passion versus love.

If she talked about her thoughts, if she 'expressed her feelings' (dream on, Watcher man), she'd talk about weapons, about the fastest way to kill something, about hiding the bodies you've left behind, about how lust can really destroy a hotel room.

Everyone here spoke a different language – and Faith wasn't very good at translation.


	16. Cross

She'd never been particularly patient, but she had no choice this time. Besides, there was nothing she needed to rush off to, and it was peaceful on the riverbank.

There were other people nearby, but she wandered away from the crowd. She settled in to wait on a patch of soft moss, watching the water and the waving grass until the silky sound of oars drew her to her feet. She rejoined the crowd waiting on the docks.

The boatman welcomed each person until it was her turn. "Come with me across the river, and take your rest."

Kendra smiled.


	17. Eco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The real hero is always a hero by mistake; he dreams of being an honest coward like everybody else." - Umberto Eco

She dreams.   
(It's one of their gifts.)

She dreams the future.   
(Death always comes.)

She dreams the past.   
(Death always came.)

She dreams knowledge.   
(They knew too much.)

She dreams ignorance.   
(They knew so little.)

She dreams guilt.   
(Hands covered in blood.)

She dreams innocence.   
(Throats unable to scream.)

She dreams of the time before. She dreams of how it should have been. She dreams of sunshine, laughter and a life filled with opportunities.   
(They've all had this dream.)

She dreams of not being a hero. She dreams it was all a mistake.  
(They dream of being like everybody else.)


	18. Pan

Sometimes, she pretends she's standing in a creek. Water rushes past her, little white ripples against her bare legs. The sun beats down on her head. Gravel shifts under her feet, and she bends down to scoop some up in her bare hands. It sparkles, and she knows she found something incredibly valuable.

In real life, the current is overwhelming. She's foundering under the demands of her friends, her family, her duty and her own desires. Disapproval rains down on her head. But she still stands in current, panning through the sharp words for the sparkle to keep her going.


	19. Dash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy

At fifteen, life was a dash. She ran through every day and night, lighting briefly on the things she must do, touching down on the stuff she wanted. Her day was a blur of school and family. Her night was a blur of monsters and mayhem.

At twenty-one, life was a marathon. She plodded through days and nights, each blending into the last. She focused only on the things she must do, leaving the stuff she wanted by the wayside. Her life was a blur of responsibilities, battles and failure.

Life was a marathon – and she'd just hit the wall.


	20. Dash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drusilla

There was no stone, no dates to mark her life. No dash to represent a beloved family, a constant faith, a beautiful face. No mourners to cry over a Here Lies… No Requiescat in Pace for her.

She didn't lie here. She didn't requiescat anywhere. Pace was a fantasy.

Her life was forgotten, lost with her family's extermination. Her death would linger forever.

Linger in the ruins of an abbey that the locals avoided thinking about.

Linger in the long memories of the Rom caravans.

Linger in the libraries of those who recorded such things.

In death, she truly lived.


	21. Prosper

Joyce kept up a steady stream of chatter as they drove north. The town was lovely, she said. All the amenities without the dangers. The school had fantastic teachers and a promising athletics program. The gallery was adorable and the area was desperate for some culture. They'd both prosper.

+++++

Spike kept up a steady stream of chatter as they drove south. The town was lovely, he said. All the amenities without the dangers. Tunnels connected every inch of the town and the mayor kept a tight rein on the police. The Slayer was ripe for the picking. They'd both prosper.


	22. Descend

It was hell. It was beautiful, but it was hell.

He sank slowly, spun about and drifted around by hidden currents. Stray beams of moonlight and starlight highlighted suspended grains of sand and glinted off slim slivery fish.

It was a world he'd never seen before. Had he dove in of his own volition, he'd be enthralled. But trapped in this box, betrayed by his son (oh Connor), the beauty was more punishment than reward.

He'd fallen as low as he could go. The coffin settled on the sandy bottom silently and hopelessly.

Alone with his thoughts. It was hell.


	23. Sale

The sign was old and faded. There was no point putting up a new one; no one would read it anyway.

_They had tried for opulence, but they only got as far as spending too much money before it all came crashing down._

A film of grit clung to everything, but the dust wasn't as destructive as the sheer neglect.

_It was haunted by what might have been._

Pipes groaned, furniture collapsed and the wiring was unreliable at best.

_Pain and misery permeated every square foot._

The papers were signed, the money changed hands…

The sign was modern and new.


	24. League

They didn't belong in this world, but they'd been here so long that they'd forgotten that this wasn't their home. They made their deals, signed their treaties, pulled others into their plots. They were in league with all things evil.

They built their offices and their boardrooms, luxuriated in their comforts and forgot the battles they'd fought to reach the top. They surrounded themselves with sycophants and yes-men.

They became over-confident. There were threats, but the people in this world were weak. They didn't see the danger until it was too late, until Angel and his people stormed their barricades.


	25. Sun/Son

He lingered in the lobby of the Hyperion, watching his friends and family slip from dark to light and back. The golds and reds only served to emphasize the darkness, failing to recreate the yellows and oranges of a true summer's day.

He watched as shadows covered their faces and darkened their eyes. They focused on the job at hand. He watched as the sunlight hit them and lightened their loads. They lifted their heads and laughed as their fears and worries were burned away.

He remained in the shadows, but their reflected joys purged a little of his pain.


	26. Franz Ferdinand Lyrics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song: What She Came For - 'where do you see yourself in the next five minutes...'

She was always looking for the next five minutes.

She danced – always surrounded by a big crowd, always the focus of every eye, always the object of lust and a dozen grasping hands.

And then she was gone, looking for the next five minutes.

She fucked – always on top, always demanding greater pleasure, always pushing the boundaries.

And then she was out the door, looking for the next five minutes.

She slayed – always striking out with fists and feet, always with a weapon at the ready, always fighting to stay in control.

Just hoping to survive the next five minutes.


	27. Win/Winner

It took three of them to capture her. That was why she was chosen.

Fierceness, intelligence, vigilance and bravery – these were the qualities they'd sought, traveling to the boundaries of their land to test each member of their tribe. They found many brave young warriors, many intelligent chiefs, many fierce hunters and many vigilant guardians. They found a few who had some combination of those qualities, but only one, only the girl Shagarra had all that they needed.

They told her she would win great accolades, but she slipped their trap.

They hunted her.

Captured her.

Chained her.

Changed her.


	28. Moon

He watched.

He watched her spin and strike in the desert sands.

He watched her bleed and choke in the wet heat of the jungle.

He watched her sabotage and disrupt in the village alley.

He watched her thrash and drown in the darkened lake.

He watched her threaten and menace in the city's shadow.

He watched her suffer and endure in the forest's silence.

He watched her fight and win. He watched her fight and lose. He watched her rejoice. He watched her grieve. He watched her live. He watched her die.

The face in the moon always watched.


	29. Left/Leaves

"It's okay, kiddo. You're coming to my new apartment on the weekend, and we'll hang out and do whatever you want. It'll be the best!"

He leaves.

"There's no other choice, Buffy. Eventually, one of us will hurt the other past what we can stand. I'm leaving before we get there. It's for the best."

He leaves.

"I'd be happy with half of you Buffy, happy to share you with slaying, with your friends, with whatever is important now. But you can't even give me that. I need to do what's best for me."

He leaves.

"Mom?"

She'd already left.


	30. Triple

White walls, white floor, white clothes, stainless steel furniture reflecting white on white on white in a recurring spiral of bland and boring.

Cool air, but damp. The air conditioning is set extra high down here, and they keep turning on the water to rinse something away. Trying to keep the whites white.

Metal taste in the air. Not coppery, that would be too obvious. Does steel have a flavour?

Antiseptic lingers on the tongue like vomit. Bitter and strong and inescapable.

And Buffy yearns to scream as his black pen scratches out 'Summers, Joyce' on white pages. In triplicate.


	31. Novice

She'd never had to do this before. She'd always had the same friends, shopped at the same stores. She'd never the one who had to suck up. She was far more used to being sucked up to.

He'd never had to do this before. He'd always been the clown, the fool. He'd never been the one who taught. He was far more used to being schooled.

She'd never had to do this before. She'd always been the nerd, the computer geek. She'd never been the one who believed in impossible things. She was far more used to explaining the possible.


	32. Expert

He never let on how many times he was simply guessing.

Despite all the books, regardless of all the years of education, there was still so much he didn't know.

He tried to blame it on the incomplete descriptions Buffy brought back from patrol. He tried to excuse himself because he was concerned about Willow's growing reliance on magic. He tried to soothe his worry by assuring himself he was more useful than Xander.

But in the dark of the night he couldn't help but wonder when they'd realize their expert was nothing but a scared kid.

Just like them.


	33. Work

She'd come from a good family.

But Father gambled. Mother shopped. Brother seduced.

Darla put her reputation on the line to catch a wealthy husband. A seduction, a discovery, and a few tears; surely the parish would demand a wedding.

But Father died still owing money to the men. Mother was buried in the finery she'd worn to impress the women. Brother fled and left behind a pregnant girl with no option but suicide.

There would be no wedding for Darla. No opportunity to create a good family of her own.

Nothing left but putting her new skills to work.


	34. Plain

"Can I help you today, sir?"

Gold glittered. Elegant furnishings glowed. Music soothed. And the girl smiling at him was lovely enough to match her surroundings.

"I'm looking for something for a birthday gift. For someone special." She wasn't his type, but he smiled anyway.

"We've got some pretty necklaces over here," she offered.

He pretended to consider. "I don't think so. They're a little too plain. Dru likes things a little more ornate. A little more detailed. A little more… visceral."

Gold eyes glittered. Blood splashed. Music crescendoed. And the girl screaming at him was lovely enough for Dru.


	35. Costume

She disguises herself.

Ruffles and pink, heels and mascara to blend into the daylight, blend into the crowd. Talks of boys and the future, dreams and hopes to match the bubbly voices and cheerful giggles.

Black and blades, boots and lipstick to slide into the shadows, slide into the silence. Focuses on the moment and the blood, the hunt and hopes to keep the dark from slipping its shackles.

But the disguise is slipping. She snaps and snarls. Pink gathers dust while black takes over.

She's becoming a blade, bitter and sharp – and she has no idea how to stop.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * A [Restricted Work] by [brutti_ma_buoni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brutti_ma_buoni/pseuds/brutti_ma_buoni) Log in to view. 




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